Darkness Intruding: The Missing Episode
by Alelou
Summary: An intrusion from another universe's dark future rocks Earth's relations with its allies and forces Enterprise to mount a daring mission deep into Tholian space. This is the RU version of the series' MU episodes. General ensemble, TnT B-plot. COMPLETE.
1. Teaser

**Spoilers: **"In a Mirror, Darkly" and tiny bits of "The Tholian Web" from TOS, though you don't need to have seen them to enjoy this.

**Disclaimer: **All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount. Both parts of "In a Mirror, Darkly" were written by Mike Sussman. "The Tholian Web" was written by Judy Burns and Chet Richards.

**Author's Note:** What was going on in the 'real' universe while the events of "In a Mirror, Darkly?" were unfolding? Why were the members of _Enterprise's _senior staff so grumpy about Nathan Samuels' speech at the beginning of "Demons"?

What we didn't know then was that weeks earlier, an intrusion from another universe's dark future had rocked Earth's relations with its key allies, and forced _Enterprise _to mount a daring mission deep into Tholian space.

This is a canon-friendly general ensemble piece. You can safely assume it will include a strong TnT B-plot, but I'm trying to write a whole episode here instead of just shipping Trip and T'Pol.

Unlike the real producers, I don't have to amortize the cost of all those expensive sets across two episodes, so this will wrap up in one. And although I am going to follow the typical Star Trek script format of a teaser and five acts, life's just too short to use script format when I'm not getting paid for it, so I'm sticking with prose. I'm also not worrying too much if an act runs over its allotted run time.

Hope you enjoy. This is just the teaser, so it's very short. Reviews are always appreciated, but I'll understand if you would prefer to wait until you have a little more to go on. Act One should follow shortly. This episode will run in its entirety before I turn back to the missing scenes series.

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><p>On one of a number of moons orbiting a gas giant deep in Tholian territory, twelve haggard sentient beings from six different planets shuffled through an airlock.<p>

"Keep moving, you miserable slackers!" their Orion handler bellowed. He was a small man by Orion standards, but still towered over his charges. "Didn't I already tell you how much this new foreman likes his food _live_?"

The three ragged humans who brought up the rear, like the rest of the group, quickened their pace. Three months as slave laborers had taught them to do their best to keep their productivity up and their heads down.

Yet as they made their way through the air lock into the new job site they couldn't help cautiously looking around in curiosity. This ship was in pristine condition compared to the old Klingon freighter they'd had to salvage most recently, or even their own freighter, which they'd been forced to help dismantle for parts and scrap after they were first captured.

"It sure smells better," Tamar murmured.

Ahmed suddenly stopped and stared at the wall, where there was painted an emblem of a planet with a menacing dagger behind it. "Look at that!" he hissed.

"For God's sake, keep moving!" the human behind him hissed back, but then he saw it and stopped, too. "What the hell?"

It was Earth. Only the western hemisphere was shown, but it was unmistakably Earth, right down to Florida's distinctive peninsula. It was unmistakable and yet somehow it also felt completely wrong.

Ahmed said, "I don't understand. How can this - "

He screamed and fell, convulsing in the terrible current emitted by the device in his neck.

"I said 'keep moving'!" their handler yelled. "Are you _stupid _as well as slow?"

His comrades picked Ahmed up and helped hustle him along. They passed many more of the disturbing emblems as they went along, for they were all over the ship, but they didn't dare stop to gawk at them.

Still, they couldn't help trading covert glances.

What could it mean?


	2. Act One

**Disclaimers, etc.** in the teaser.

**Author's Note:** No, we're not in the Mirror Universe. But the real universe can get dark in places, too, and it doesn't help when elements of the Mirror Universe suddenly show up there.

Thanks as always, reviewers!

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><p>Closest to the door were the four boots, a jumble of masculine and feminine. Next lay sprawled a blue uniform and a lighter blue catsuit, then a black shirt, a grey tank top, a blue tank top. Finally, a pair of blue underwear and a pair of grey panties lay discarded on the deck next to the bed, where a rich purple coverlet also lay in a heap.<p>

Up on the bunk, a naked Vulcan lay prone across the chest of an equally naked Human. Both were panting and covered with a fine sheen of perspiration.

"That's more like it," the Human said.

The Vulcan, somewhat uncharacteristically, sighed. "Agreed."

The Human turned so that they were nested together on their sides. "You know that thing I said about this thing between us not being such a big deal?"

"Yes," she said, with a hint of an edge in her voice.

His voice turned husky. "I lied."

He couldn't see her raise her eyebrow, but he might have felt her tense slightly.

He sighed and caressed her arm. "So we're _bonded._"

"Apparently."

"That could explain a hell of a lot, actually."

She said nothing.

"So, T'Pol?"

"Yes?" She turned to look at him.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about any of this _before_ I transferred off the damned ship?"

x x x

Jonathan Archer started awake. What was that annoying _ping_?

Oh. The comm.

"Archer," he groaned, glancing at his monitor: 0229.

Crewman Petrovich's voice was apologetic. "Sorry to wake you, Captain, but Ambassador Graal wishes to speak with you. He says it's urgent."

Jon sighed, trying to remember whether a Tellarite would be offended by a man's naked chest. Of course, if that didn't bother him, something else was bound to. "Give me a minute and then patch it through." He quickly hunted for a shirt he could pull over his head.

"Ambassador?" he said, when Graal's distinctive snout appeared. "How can I help you?" He knew he should probably try to find something rude to say, but he wasn't quite awake enough for that.

"Just what do you Humans think you're up to?"

Jon blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Three days ago we came across two of your kind in a shuttle craft. They were being pursued by an Orion marauder. They claimed to be escaping from Orion slavery, and asked for our help."

"I trust you assisted them?"

"We did. At the time, we _thought_ we were allies."

Was that just another Tellarite insult? Jon took a deep breath and desperately tried to think of something offensive. "I don't know of any reason why that would have changed, Ambassador, as unpleasant as our association can be." There, maybe that would do. "Can you give me any more information on the two people you're talking about?"

"They claim to be two survivors of a freighter captured by the Orions, the _Martin Ennals_."

"That ship was reported missing over five months ago. I guess we know what happened to it now."

"That's not why I called you. The shuttle they were in was built on Earth. It was traveling at a speed in excess of warp three."

Jon stared back at him in puzzlement. "We don't have any warp-capable shuttles."

"It also had shielding better than anything we've seen so far, even from the Vulcans."

"Ambassador, we don't even have shields on _Enterprise_."

"Before my people officially declare war on yours, perhaps you'd like to explain just what kind of diabolical double game you've been playing?"

Jon squinted at the screen at an utter loss.

It would be so nice to wake up now.

x x x

In a Tellarite sickbay redolent with the aroma of warm mud, Dr. Phlox scanned two weary Humans, a man and a woman. He turned to Archer and reported, "They are suffering from malnutrition and they also show evidence of assault and trauma, as well as some mild neural damage consistent with the use of Orion control devices. Their symptoms are entirely consistent with what they've told us."

The Tellarite surgeon in attendance snuffled in agreement. "It is not an uncommon syndrome in this region of space."

"Those Orions are a menace against our peoples and our commerce," Jon said. "It's time we did something to stop them."

Graal said, "Yet it appears you Humans already have all the technology you could possibly require to defeat them. Perhaps it serves your purpose to let these Orions terrorize our people."

"You keep talking about advanced technology," Jon said. "But we're not a match for even _your _fleet, as you well know, and we're also still years behind the Vulcans and the Andorians. I have yet to see any of this technology you keep jabbering on about." He was doing his level best to keep his tone combative instead of baffled, but the effort of doing so was giving him a headache.

"It's being studied by our best engineers and tacticians, of course," Graal said. "We're not the fools you apparently take us for."

"The technology we saw _was _amazing, Captain," said the tall young man who'd identified himself as Ahmed Khan, the engineer's mate aboard the _Martin Ennals_. "And it was definitely an Earth ship ... it had emblems of the planet all over it. But we believe it may be a ship from Earth's future. And it was not a particularly nice future." He frowned at his much shorter companion, Tamar Cardini, a cargo specialist.

They were just two of the original fourteen missing crewmen from the _Martin Ennals_ – and as far as they knew, the only two who had survived, except for a third companion, Seth Carter, who they said had covered their escape.

"The _Martin Ennals_ was over thirty years old, Mr. Khan. Are you sure it didn't just _seem _advanced compared to what you're used to?"

Khan exchanged a sour glance with Cardini, who said, "We knew you would have trouble believing us. That's why we brought a copy of the database with us."

"Great," Archer said. "Where is it?"

Khan nodded his head towards Graal. "_They _have it … like everything else."

Jon turned to Graal, frowning. "At least _show _me what he's talking about."

Graal pulled a data chip out of his vest and put it in Jon's hand. "This is a copy. You can be certain we're already acting on the original. I will allow you to take these people back with you, but that's it. I thought I knew you, Archer, and that's the only reason I'm giving you this opportunity. I suggest that you do not waste any time in explaining what we see here. And kindly do it in a way that _doesn't _insult our intelligence."

Jon stared at him, nonplussed. If it was rude NOT to insult Tellarites, what the hell did _that _mean? He snarled, "You people obviously have this all wrong, which shouldn't surprise me. Just give me 24 hours, Ambassador. By then I should have an explanation that even _you_ can understand."

Graal snorted thoughtfully. "Take as long as you like, Archer. We have mobilized our forces. Until we have our answers, you and your pathetic excuse for a ship aren't going anywhere."

Perhaps the situation wasn't completely irretrievable. At least Graal had finally thrown an insult at him.

x x x

"Here are your guest quarters," Travis said, opening the two opposing doors. "Let me know if you need anything at all. I grew up on a freighter myself - the_ Horizon_."

"I've heard of her," Tamar said. "Is their Captain Mayweather a relation of yours?"

"My brother," Travis said. "They avoid this region of space. He says it's not worth the risk."

"Your brother's right," Ahmed said. "I think I'll stick close to home after this. Assuming we ever _get _home." He walked into the cabin and looked out the window at the Tellarite ships hanging in a ring around _Enterprise_.

Travis followed him in, as did Tamar. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. Captain Archer and Ambassador Graal are old friends. The captain will work something out."

"Can I stay with you, Ahmed?" Tamar said. "I don't want my own cabin."

"Yeah, I know," Ahmed said, and turned to Mayweather. "We won't need the other one."

"I'm sorry," Travis said. "I didn't realize you two were together."

"We're not," Tamar said. "Not really. But if there's one thing we figured out fast in that hell-hole, it's that you never want to be alone." She sighed and turned to the window. "Poor Seth."

"He might be okay," Ahmed told her. "He's pretty tough."

"He helped us escape," Tamar told Travis. "And if they figured that out, he's already dead. If they didn't, he's dead anyway, sooner or later. They work you and starve you to point of exhaustion, and then when you just can't go on anymore, they cook you. And the worst part is, your old comrades are starving so badly, they just go ahead and eat. Do you think there's any chance your captain will be able to help him?"

Travis swallowed. "I don't know."

"We shouldn't have left him behind," she said mournfully, staring out at space. "We don't deserve to be here, safe and comfortable, when he's not."

"It was the only way," Ahmed said. "You never know, Tamar. He might still make it out." He put his hands on her shoulders and she turned and leaned into him for a comforting hug. "I count at least four cruisers out there, Mr. Mayweather. Can this ship outrun four Tellarite cruisers?"

"I assure you, the captain is doing his level best to make sure we won't need to."

Tamar didn't take her head out of where she had buried it in Ahmed's chest, so her voice was quite muffled as she said, "Our captain did his best, too. They served him for breakfast."


	3. Act Two

**Disclaimers, etc. **in the Teaser

Act Two comes with a technobabble warning.

Many thanks, reviewers!

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><p>T'Pol pulled up video of the ship on the situation room table and everyone leaned in to see it better. "It's called the <em>Imperial Starship Ares<em>," she said. "By the time it was built, Earth had adopted a different calendar, but its last log entry corresponds to what we would call the year 2268."

"_Imperial _starship?" Reed said.

T'Pol said, "_This_ Earth is the center of a vast 'Terran Empire' encompassing most of the alpha quadrant. Humans have subjugated the Vulcans, Andorians, Tellarites, Denobulans, and at least some of the Orions."

The Humans around the table stared back at her, a few with their mouths hanging open. Archer said, "I guess that explains why Graal is so suspicious about what we're up to."

"No doubt," T'Pol said. "However, I do not believe this ship is from our own universe, but from another, parallel universe."

The captain frowned. "How can you even tell?"

"According to their database, their history has unfolded in what we would consider a more malignant way from the beginning. This is true not only of Earth but of _all _the planets. For example, the Vulcans of this universe revere Surak primarily for promoting logic as a technique for successfully defeating others. Earth's religious and philosophical beliefs center on loyalty to the emperor and the empire, with a pantheon of minor gods serving primarily for entertainment purposes. Cooperation towards the mutual good is unheard of. Conquest and war drive the economy."

"History is written by the victors," Reed said. "That doesn't mean that's how it actually happened. Besides, I thought parallel universes were only theoretical."

T'Pol said, "As they _should_ be, since they are not supposed to ever intersect with ours. However, it appears that the _Ares'_ weapons' destroyed antimatter containment on a rebel vessel they were pursuing just as it was attempting to escape into a spatial vortex of some kind. This apparently created an unstable area of overlapping universes that had unusual effects. The _Ares _was unable to create a warp field, and the crew began to exhibit psychotic behavior … even by their standards. Crew logs reflect increasing mayhem, and within a week, automatic sensors detected no remaining life signs on board. Four weeks ago, the Tholians happened upon the ship adrift in space, and towed it to a salvage facility. We have Khan and Cardini's account for the rest."

Archer said, "The Tellarites have had this database longer than we have. Why didn't they figure this out themselves?"

T'Pol said, "The Tellarites are not known for their interest in theoretical physics, and they face a significant language barrier. Depending on how carefully they can distinguish nuance, they may not have noticed the many differences between the two universes. Many of the same individuals and institutions appear in both."

Archer frowned. "What do you mean?"

This was going to make for an interesting morning meeting. "_Their_ Jonathan Archer was the first officer of the _ISS Enterprise_, until he led a mutiny to depose Captain Forrest so that he could obtain a starship from the future of a different parallel universe, possibly our own, that he had learned was in Tholian custody_._ The _Enterprise _was destroyed in that battle with the Tholians, but your counterpart took command of the other ship, the _Defiant,_ and attempted to use its vastly superior fire power to make himself emperor. However, before he could succeed, his concubine Hoshi Sato poisoned him, and became Empress herself."

"_What?_" Reed said, looking aghast at Sato.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Hoshi," Tucker said.

Sato glared at them. "T'Pol already said this isn't the same universe."

"I certainly hope not," Archer said.

T'Pol continued, "Empress Sato went on to enjoy a long and relatively prosperous reign of over twenty years before she was violently deposed. This made her one of more notable leaders of that Earth's imperial history."

Sato folded her arms and scowled. "What about _you, _Commander?"

T'Pol said, "Their T'Pol served as a science officer on _Enterprise _until she attempted, unsuccessfully, to destroy _Defiant_ to stop Archer."

"And then what happened?" Tucker said.

"Her role diminished significantly after that."

His eyes narrowed. "What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"At least she wasn't someone's _concubine_," Sato complained.

T'Pol kept silent. She had no wish to discuss her counterpart's fate.

Reed said, "And the rest of us?"

"Colonel Travis Mayweather served as the Empress's personal bodyguard until he was found dead of poison shortly after asking permission to marry. Malcolm Reed was the MACO major in charge of security for _Enterprise _and then _Defiant,_ until he died of injuries sustained on the job. Charles Tucker remained Chief Engineer of the _Defiant_ until 2161, when he was killed in a suspicious explosion."

Trip scowled. "Why am I always dying in these alternative timelines?"

T'Pol had no answer, though she was beginning to consider this a rather disturbing pattern as well.

"You're not the only one who bites the dust in this one," Mayweather said.

Reed said, "Yes, that was quite the body count."

Archer began to circle the table. "As fascinating as all this is, it leaves us with two key questions. One, how can we persuade the Tellarites that this is quite another universe, and that we're not secretly plotting to conquer them? Two, what do we do about all that advanced technology sitting in Tholian hands?"

Reed said, "If they're taking it apart for salvage, they may not even realize what they have. Yet."

Archer said, "We need to get in there and destroy it before that can happen."

Mayweather looked concerned. "Didn't Commander T'Pol say it was deep in Tholian space?"

Sato added, "They're not exactly friendly. And that other _Enterprise_ was lost, wasn't it?"

"With respect, Captain," Reed said, "It may be too late already. The Tellarites already have the database, the shuttle craft and an energy weapon. That's enough to put them years ahead of all the rest of us."

"The Tellarites are not a particularly aggressive or ambitious species," T'Pol said.

Reed said, "They weren't _before._ How do we know the Orions, the Tholians, the Suliban or the Romulans aren't already seeking to leverage this find? Or the Klingons? This could put us at a tremendous strategic disadvantage."

"Can I ask a question?" Trip said. "Why hasn't _Daniels_ shown up? Isn't he usually the first guy to try to stop dangerous changes in the timeline?"

"I don't know," the captain said. "Maybe that means we successfully handled it on our own."

Trip said, "Or we failed."

Archer scowled at him.

Sato spoke up. "T'Pol said the Terran Empire's Archer took advantage of technology from a starship over one hundred years in the future. If these universes are truly parallel, it follows that we're going to do something similar in our universe … although hopefully not with the same result."

"This does have the potential to quickly destabilize the entire quadrant," T'Pol said.

"I agree," Archer said. "We've got to find a way to stop this from destroying all the progress we've made. I'm going to contact Ambassador Graal and Starfleet, and propose that an emergency summit of our allies to be held right here. We'll solve this problem together. Dismissed."

T'Pol took note of the many surprised faces among the senior staff before turning to follow the captain. "May I have a word, Captain?" she said, and followed him into his ready room. Trip followed as well.

Archer sat down at his desk. His chin was high – a sure sign that he was not particularly interested in hearing any argument. "What is it?"

"Are you certain that is the wisest move? The Tellarites are far more amenable to reason than the Andorians … and Vulcan is something of an unknown under its new High Council. Especially given the tensions between them…"

"_Secrecy _is the last thing we need now, T'Pol."

Had he thought this through at all? "If the Tholians don't even know what they have, notifying others could alert them to their advantage. We know that many informal lines of communication exist, and that's before any media get involved."

"She has a point, Cap'n," Trip said. "And frankly, what makes you so sure we can trust our _own_ government with something like this?"

Archer squinted at him. "Where's _that_ coming from?"

"Who helped kidnap Phlox?"

T'Pol stared at him in puzzlement. _Rigelians_ had kidnapped Phlox.

"Look," Archer said, with a quick, concerned glance at her, "Do either of you think the Tholians are going to just let us fly into their space and blow up that ship for the general good?"

"Obviously not," T'Pol said.

"Then we're going to need all the help we can get. That means allies. But you do have a point about not spreading the news too widely. I'll suggest that we all keep this on a need-to-know basis. The Tellarites have been keeping it quiet. Maybe it's not too late to keep this situation from spiraling out of control." He sighed. "Please send in Lieutenant Reed on your way out. Dismissed."

x x x

T'Pol notified Reed that the captain wanted to speak with him and then followed Trip into the turbo-lift. When the doors shut, she said, "Rigelians kidnapped Phlox."

"Uh huh."

"That's not the whole story?"

He grimaced. "You'd better ask the captain."

"I'm asking _you._"

The door opened, and Trip walked out into the corridor and headed for engineering. "Do you really want to exchange every secret? Because in that case I can sure think of some questions I'm going to want to ask you."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters, what _did _happen to the other T'Pol?"

She pulled out her padd and pulled up the relevant passage. "See for yourself."

Trip stopped and leaned against a bulkhead to read, then whistled low. "My _slave?_ I can't believe you put up with that!"

"Nor can I."

"Still, it looks like we're meant to be together in _every_ universe … one way or another." He smiled, then sobered. "Except for this nasty habit I have of dying, anyway." He licked his lips and looked earnestly at her. "What if that's just my fate, T'Pol? Suppose I'm only good for another ten or fifteen years?"

"I see no point in even considering that." Not that she had been able to entirely dismiss the idea herself.

"Maybe we shouldn't be wasting any more time."

"Meaning?"

He looked around the empty corridor, then moved in closer to her and took both her hands in his. "I want to make this official. Marry me."

_x x x_

In the ready room, Malcolm Reed was defending himself. "I had to give him _some _reason for being in the brig."

Archer said. "He just blabbed it in front of T'Pol, who doesn't know the whole story. So shall I tell her, or shall you?"

"I should think _Trip_ will tell her," Malcolm said, with a smirk. It was well known that the two were back together, though who could say how long it would last this time.

Archer sighed. "Trip had a point. Do I need to worry that Harris will be getting into this?"

Reed folded his arms. It _had _occurred to him that this was something someone like Harris might actually handle far better than _Enterprise_ could. "Harris won't get involved in issues he doesn't know enough about. I'm sure he'll be scrambling to catch up as soon as he does find out about it, though. As well he _should _be."

"Are you _also_ going to argue against bringing in our allies?"

"The more people who know, the more governments that are involved, the less control we will have."

Archer stood up and looked out the window. "Do you know what they call a government that has total control, Malcolm?"

"Sir, are you suggesting there's never any need for covert operations?"

Archer began to pace. "I accept that people like Harris need to exist, as long as there's something to keep them in check. That doesn't mean I think that's the right approach to take with this particular issue. What's the greater risk here? The technology, or the loss of our alliances?"

"I'm a tactical officer, sir. I'm going to have to say it's the technology."

"I disagree," Archer said. "True peace and prosperity depend on mutual cooperation. The alternative is what they had in that other universe - constant suspicion and conquest."

"Is the choice ever really that black and white?"

"Perhaps not." Archer frowned. "But I'm going to have to go with my gut here, Malcolm." He sighed, and looked out the window again. "I just hope I'm not dead wrong."


	4. Act Three

**Disclaimers, etc.** in the teaser

Thank you, reviewers.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand," T'Pol said. Why were they were having this conversation in a corridor? Apparently this idea had just occurred to Trip, which meant he was acting on impulse.<p>

Trip scowled. "What's to understand?"

T'Pol stopped and waited while a crewman passed. "You're already my bond mate. To a Vulcan, that _is_ marriage."

"It didn't prevent you from marrying Koss."

"Trip, we've been through this." Would he never let it go?

He bit his lip in impatience. "_Bond mate_ doesn't mean anything on Earth. Or to my parents. It's not something we can tell Starfleet and expect them to understand. Or the rest of this crew."

"I believe you _could_ explain to your parents. Starfleet would likely insist on separate postings if they fully understood our situation. As for the rest of this crew…." She paused and waited while yet another crewman passed, eyes carefully averted, "…I believe they may already be fairly cognizant of our relationship."

"Look," he said, and leaned in, speaking in a low and urgent tone. "I want the whole deal, T'Pol. Kids, house, picket fence. Let's not waste any more time."

How did a 'picket fence' (whatever that was) fit into that list? She stared at him. "Then you wish to leave _Enterprise_?"

"Yeah, I do," he said, after a nano-second of hesitation. "If that's what it takes."

"In the Expanse, the older T'Pol told me that having a child took us many years and … involved many disappointments." Lorian had not been their first child; he was simply the first to survive.

"Don't you think it's worth trying?"

"Yes, but…" Surely his sudden sense of urgency was irrational? A week ago they had barely been speaking to each other.

"Even _they_ had a child," he said, and held up the padd.

"She didn't survive."

"That doesn't mean ours won't."

Did Trip have any idea what it would mean to lose a child? Could their relationship survive that? Of course, that other Trip and T'Pol in the Expanse had apparently weathered a number of losses.

But they'd had little choice about that.

"Look," he said, clearly getting impatient. "All I'm saying is _think about it._ I've just told you what I want. And now, as _usual,_ it's up to you." He handed her back her padd and stalked away.

x x x

In his ready room, Jon asked Hoshi, "Any word on who will be in the Andorian delegation?"

"Not yet."

They were working together to organize the upcoming summit. Graal had listened to Archer's explanation and, after the requisite round of insults, agreed to his plan. The Vulcans and Andorians were already on their way. The Coridanites were still arguing amongst themselves about whether to participate and the Denobulan fleet had no real military capability, so Jon intended to proceed without them. He said, "Honestly, I don't know whether to hope for Shran or not."

"He might be a little mellower these days," Hoshi said. "I hear he's been courting Jhamel."

"Jhamel? She could be his daughter."

"Andorians aren't as hung up on age differences as Humans are."

Not as 'hung up'? Jon looked at Hoshi in surprise. She looked back, her expression unreadable.

"So how is your translation going?" he asked. "Will the Tellarites be able to see all those nuances now?"

"Tellarites tend to see the world in commercial terms, so to the extent that their own parallel history reflects constant dealing in bad faith, they should realize that something's off."

"Just bad faith? Not assassination and back-stabbing?"

"No, not so much for them. Before the Humans conquered them, they tended to just choke off supplies and starve their enemies to death while insulting them for being fools. The stereotype in this universe is that they're quite happy to serve the Empire in exchange for a steady supply of food."

Jon shook his head. "That kind of casual stereotype could destroy these talks."

"You can't seem apologetic about it, Captain. I suggest that you go in strong – insult them in every way possible for having believed for even one minute that any of this nonsense applied to us."

She was right, of course. He looked down at the notes she had prepared for him. "Hoshi, do you realize that you've been my primary advisor in all our diplomatic relations for the last three years?"

She looked up. "Sir?"

"I think maybe you're being under-utilized. Your counterpart's record certainly suggests that you are. It must have taken some genius to hold an empire like that together for twenty years."

"Or a willingness to do _anything_ to hold power." Hoshi frowned. "And I do mean _anything_."

Which had included sleeping with his counterpart, of course. Jon grimaced.

Hoshi's lips suddenly quirked in amusement. "She sure got a lot more action than I do, though. And from all accounts, she thoroughly enjoyed _that _part of the job."

He shook his head, amused. She had just masterfully defused that little moment, hadn't she? As usual. "I'm just glad I don't have to worry about you poisoning me." He switched his tone to one of dismissal. "Let me know when the delegates start arriving."

She stood. "Yes, sir." But then she bent down until her mouth was close to his ear and said in an oddly sultry voice, "Just so you know… I would _never_ murder you, Captain." And she turned and sashayed out the door.

Jon stared after her in astonishment.

Had his beautiful, brilliant, far-too-young, far-too-subordinate Communications Officer just come on to him?

No. Impossible.

She was just indulging her wicked sense of humor.

Yeah, that had to be it. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

_Don't be an ass, Jon,_ he thought. _Not like_ _that other one_.

x x x

"What is this?" Shran demanded. "The _Terran Empire_? What makes you think we'd ever stand for that?"

Next to him, Soval said, "Unless I am mistaken, your government still refers to itself as the _Andorian Empire_. You're missing Captain Archer's point. This is from an alternative, parallel universe."

"A much darker one," Jon said. The representatives and their aides had gathered in _Enterprise's _conference room. Trip, T'Pol, Reed and Sato sat at the other end of the table. "One in which Earth felt its only security lay in brutal domination of its neighbors and its own people. Even the rebel alliance against it continually fell apart. It's as if the people of that universe simply can't ever get it together to cooperate. But that's _not _us. We've already seen what we can achieve together."

Next to him, Graal grunted in agreement.

"How can you be certain it's truly from another _universe_ and not from our own future?" Shran said.

Jon sighed. "I'll let T'Pol walk you through that again later. We have more urgent business. This ship the Tholians have found is from over one hundred years in the future – and it's a future that has already benefited from an earlier acquisition of advanced technology. That means it poses an immediate threat to all of our security."

"So what do you propose we do about it?" Shran folded his arms and looked imperious.

"Destroy it," Jon said calmly. "As long as that ship exists, it will be a terrible temptation to whoever controls it."

"And the shuttle craft the Tellarites already have?" Shran said suspiciously. "Graal says its engines and shielding are beyond anything we've seen. Will that be destroyed as well?"

"The Tellarites have already agreed to host a _coalition_ effort to reverse engineer that technology, and they have already acted in good faith by sharing the database in full with each of you. Hopefully, our peoples can put this bounty of technology to use for our _mutual _defense."

Soval said, "I'm surprised, Captain, at your apparent lack of concern about this contamination of our timeline."

"In this case, the genie's out of the bottle," Jon said, then saw Hoshi's warning face and translated the colloquialism. "It's too late to completely contain this. We know from the historical record that this same advantage was used for ill purpose in the other universe. It follows that what we have to do is make sure it's used to _good_ purpose in this universe."

Shran said in an aside to Soval, "You know, I think the Coridanites are really going to regret missing this."

Jon frowned at him. "Hopefully this coalition will continue to flourish and grow and will eventually include _all_ the species of good faith in this quadrant. But we know there are hostile groups that would be delighted to gain access to this ship."

"Which would be a very bad thing," Lieutenant Reed said.

Graal said, "If the ship is in salvage, the obvious solution is to try to purchase it."

"That could tip them off that we're interested," Shran said. "Them _and_ others."

"Buying it would be the simplest solution," Jon said. "I'm not opposed to trying that. However, I think we also need to proceed with a plan to resolve the issue more decisively."

Soval's eyebrow went up. "Namely?"

Jon leaned forward. "We still have in our possession a Suliban cell ship with a working cloaking device. I propose that we send in my chief engineer and my science officer to engage the _Ares'_ auto-destruct function and eliminate this threat once and for all."

"If the ship self-destructs in dry dock, the collateral damage would be significant," Soval said.

"Yes, I realize that," Archer said. "Auto-destruct does carry a warning period to allow evacuation, but we have no idea how practical that would be at this facility. If possible, Trip and T'Pol will bring out any of our people they find there. The cell ship is really only a two-man vessel, but we've managed to squeeze as many as five in."

"The Tholians would obviously regard this as an _attack_, Captain," Soval said. "It could start a war."

"Yes, I know." That was the most serious downside of this plan. "However, there's also no reason to believe the Tholians particularly _want _war," Jon said. "Especially if we present a united front. If our plan is fully successful, they may also not realize who did it."

Shran said, "This facility is located over fifteen light years into Tholian territory. What is the range of this cloaked pod?"

"We'd need to get within three light years."

Soval's eyebrow rose practically to his hairline. "That presents a _significant_ challenge."

Shran said, "Yes, those webs … I've seen what they can do."

T'Pol spoke up. "Conventional Tholian weapons are not a great threat to Vulcan or Andorian shields, although they can inflict significant damage on Human and Tellarite ships. Unfortunately, as you know, their webs are capable of causing catastrophic damage to all our vessels. Lieutenant Reed and I have determined that if a fleet of sufficient size maintains a large and constantly shifting matrix, the Tholians' web strategy can be neutralized. That assumes, of course, that their numbers do not overwhelm ours. However, the extensive territory claimed by the Tholians is widespread and quite thinly patrolled. It is perhaps telling that an Orion marauder chased our escaped freighter crewmen without any aid from Tholian vessels."

Shran's eyebrows drew together. "Does this strategy work at warp?"

"Yes."

Shran turned to Archer. "Perhaps we should also collaborate on reverse-engineering this cloaking device you have, Pinkskin. _That's _technology I'm sure we could all find useful."

At the end of the table, Malcolm and Trip exchanged grimaces. They had been quietly working on that exact project for years, but Jon had purposely held those reports back from his superiors. A working cloak was just what Harris and his ilk would love. Daniels had long ago suggested to Jon that this technology would do Earth more harm than good.

Of course, he'd also suggested Jon hold onto the cell ship just in case it came in useful some day.

Shran was apparently willing to drop the subject at least temporarily, for he said, "I'd like to run that strategy of yours through some simulations with my own tactical staff."

"Of course," Archer said. "Assuming they agree with my officers' assessment, shall we proceed?"

Shran stared at Soval, who stared back. Graal grunted. The senior staff eyed each other. Malcolm still looked profoundly uncomfortable. He probably thought Jon had just given away the store.

Really, though, he was trying to blow up the store.

Shran finally said, "I don't think we have any choice. Let's do it."


	5. Act Four

**Disclaimer, etc**. in Teaser

Many thanks, reviewers!

It's so damned hot and buggy out there today that I'd much rather post fanfic than garden.

* * *

><p>Soval and his aide were heading back to the airlock when Commander Tucker called from behind. "Ambassador," he said. "Could I have a moment?"<p>

Tucker had regarded him with such speculation during the meeting that Soval was not surprised to be approached. "Of course, Commander," Soval said, and turned to his aides. "Proceed without me," he said, and waited until they had gone. "How can I help you?"

Tucker led him back into the now-empty conference room. "You're Vulcan," he said.

Soval waited. By now he had learned to recognize these otherwise inexplicable statements of the obvious as the first part of an if-then statement.

"So you must know something about mate bonds," Tucker said. "Right?"

"You may find this difficult to understand, Commander, but Vulcans have not spoken openly about the nature of their marriage bonds for decades. The _Kir'Shara_ is only now beginning to change that."

"Well, you still must know a hell of a lot more about it than I do. T'Pol says that for Vulcans a bond is the same thing as a marriage. Is that true?"

Apparently those two had finally come to something of an understanding … though not a complete one. "Yes."

Tucker frowned. "So … why bother with a wedding?"

Soval regarded him curiously. What was Tucker _wishing_ to hear? "The lack of open discussion, as well as the difficulty of translation, may make this more obscure than it needs to be. I believe it would be more accurate to translate a Vulcan wedding as a _bonding ceremony_. Unfortunately, a pre-existing bond would make that impossible."

"_Un_fortunately? I consider it pretty damned _fortunate_."

"I suppose it could be considered fortunate if the pre-existing bond is a good one," Soval said.

Tucker scowled, and Soval wondered if he had perceived that as an insult. "Just as on Earth, Commander, Vulcans vary greatly in their character and personality. I have seen bond mates who cannot be described as contented with each other. The difference between our species is that Humans in such a situation can divorce. Vulcans cannot."

"But T'Pol and Koss divorced."

"It would be more accurate to describe that as a dissolution, or an annulment. Once a true mate bond forms, it is considered permanent."

Tucker said, "So that's it, huh? There's no out?"

"I can speak only for Vulcans, Commander. You're Human. Why? Were you hoping for an 'out'?"

"No," Tucker said. "I feel like I'm still trying to find an _in._"

Fascinating. "Were you aware that, according to Vulcan custom, a male bond mate enjoys a number of prerogatives?"

Tucker went quite still. "Prerogatives?"

"Of course, I can tell you from my own experience," Soval said, "That _having_ prerogatives and actually exercising them are two different things. One generally hopes to maintain a harmonious bond. It can require a somewhat delicate touch…"

Tucker's eyes narrowed. "Just tell me what they are."

x x x

The cell ship had a layer of dust inside it that was making Malcolm sneeze.

"_Gesundheit_!" Trip said. "I guess we haven't been in here in awhile, huh? So much for the groundbreaking new Tucker-Reed Starship Cloak."

Malcolm sighed. "Part of me wishes Shran _would _attempt to reverse-engineer it, just so it could make him insane, too."

"You know, I don't think it's so much an impossibility as it is a trade-off," Tucker said. "If we really wanted to explore the galaxy in miserably uncomfortable tiny little ships, we could probably cloak them, just like this one. But then, what would that say about us?"

"I still think it's a capability we ought to have," Malcolm said. "So did you ever learn how to pilot this thing?"

"Travis is going to walk me through it later. He says it's a lot easier than the Xindi insectoid ship."

"Thank heaven for small favors," Malcolm said. "Here's another one." He tapped Trip on the shoulder and handed him over a specialized phase pistol he'd been issued many years earlier.

"Where the hell did you get this?" Trip had asked, turning the miniature piece over in fascinated examination.

"Never mind that. Just make sure you bring it back."

x x x

"We're being hailed," Sato reported. Jon had been waiting tensely for this moment. Their little coalition fleet was already well into Tholian space, but they still needed to get the pod closer to its destination.

"Open a channel," he said. "This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship _Enterprise_. We and our friends have business to conduct with you."

Tholians were definitely some of the weirdest looking aliens he'd ever encountered. The one that appeared on the screen looked like a cross between a giant crab and an animated tangram. The voice that returned was clearly synthesized by the translator. "State the nature of this business."

"We have come to negotiate the purchase of a ship you have in salvage. It's one of ours, and we'd like it back."

"Then why do three other species' vessels accompany you?"

"They have a mutual interest in this acquisition."

The Tholian sat there, glowering in a range of psychedelic colors. "Why?"

"That is not your concern. Are you ready to negotiate?"

"You may send a representative. One ship will suffice. The others must depart."

"That is not acceptable. What would prevent you from salvaging _us_?"

"You insult us! If you do not trust us, leave."

"We have no desire to insult you, and we will leave promptly once we have acquired that ship. We are willing to pay well for it."

"So are others, and they respect the sanctity of our borders. Reverse course now, or we will destroy you."

"They've closed the channel," Hoshi reported.

Reed said, "They're beginning a web."

Jon felt a niggle of discomfort. He could understand the Tholian point of view, and he couldn't help wondering if taking a single ship in to negotiate might not ultimately work out better … especially for the future of Human-Tholian relations. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to take the chance that it would fail. "Tell our friends it's time to begin maneuvers on my mark," Archer told Hoshi, and turned to T'Pol. "You'd better go get ready."

She got up and left the bridge.

Jon stared calmly at the view screen. Two Tholian vessels had begun spinning strands of energy between them. "Travis?"

"Ready, sir."

"Now," he said.

And so it began.

x x x

Trip looked up as T'Pol entered the launch bay. She had dressed in someone's shapeless worn-out civvies and was thinly smeared with grime, but she still looked awfully damned good.

Ahmed and Tamar had come to give them last-minute pointers on how to look convincing as slaves.

"You'll want to cover those ears," Tamar told her. "There aren't any Vulcans in the labor gangs. They're too valuable in the slave markets."

"Unlike Humans?" Trip said.

"They say we have short life spans and do poorly in captivity," Tamar said. "Though I thought we lasted better than some others. Andorians always seemed to give out the soonest. I think it was the heat. That, and they really had a hard time letting go of their pride."

Ahmed added, "You can't _really_ give it up, because once you do you're done for, but you need to _act_ as if you've given it up. That Starfleet posture just begs for someone to take you down. Let's see you slouch."

He gave it a try. T'Pol did, too.

Ahmed and Tamar looked distinctly unimpressed. "You can do better than that," Tamar said. "Imagine ... I don't know… that what you wish more than anything is that you could just go crawl into a corner and die in peace, but you can't."

Okay, there was no way Trip wanted to try to imagine _that,_ but he slumped harder.

"Well…" Ahmed said, doubtfully. "That's a little better. Don't walk, shuffle. And no eye contact!"

"And if someone asks us what we're doing there?"

"They process new arrivals all the time," Ahmed said. "But they're not very organized. Just look terrified and tell them Merat sent you."

"Or Belal," Tamar said.

"Merat or Belal," Trip said, trying to remember.

Tamar eyed T'Pol critically. "Try to stay behind him, if you can. Do whatever you can to avoid attention. If someone starts bothering you…"

"I'll take care of it," Trip said.

"No, no, you can't," Ahmed said. "Not unless it's another slave. If it's a guard, you really can't interfere. You'd be killed."

"We're just _pretending_ to be slaves, Ahmed," Trip said. "We'll be armed."

Ahmed blinked and swallowed hard. "Oh. Right. That's good."

Tamar's face had gone oddly blank for a moment, but then she swallowed and turned back to them, all business. "I know you saw Seth's picture, but try to imagine the same guy with a patchy beard, and the rest of his hair all big and wild, like a lion's mane. If he's still alive, you can't miss him."

Trip looked at T'Pol. "We'll do our best," he said. Realistically, the chances they would fit that into this mission were slim. They would have to practically trip over the guy.

"Good luck," Tamar said.

"Yeah, good luck," Ahmed said, still sounding subdued.

Trip climbed into the pod behind T'Pol and shut the hatch behind them. He ran through the checklist with her. "Guess we're all set," he said.

She said, "Trip, I am fully capable of defending myself."

"I know, but that's my job now." He smirked. "Bond mate's prerogative."

Was it his imagination, or was her look at him rather alarmed?

He grinned. Assuming they survived this mission, he was going to have some fun.

x x x

It was the strangest space battle Jonathan Archer had ever been in.

The Tholians had quickly realized that weapons fire wasn't going to work with the Andorians and Vulcans running interference and had instead begun a giant web. In response, the four starships of the coalition swooped and dodged in an intricate, pre-determined choreography, even as they maintained warp five and steady progress towards the launch point. Web after web had been abandoned as the Tholians scrambled to catch up.

"This is too easy, pink skin," Shran said over the com.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Jon said. "I'm sure they'll get reinforcements eventually."

"We're approaching the coordinates," Reed reported.

"Open the launch doors," Jon said, and nodded at Hoshi to patch him through to the pod. "Trip, T'Pol, good luck. No heroics. Just get the job done and then get to the rendezvous point."

"Understood," T'Pol's voice came, and then they were away.

"There's no trace of them on sensors," Reed said.

"Good," Jon said. "Time to change direction. Hoshi, is everyone standing by?"

"Yes sir."

"On my mark, then…" He finally realized what this reminded him of, and he couldn't help grinning at the thought of it: water polo. This was like running an offense in water polo.

x x x

Trip flew the pod slowly into a sprawling facility carved into a small moon. "There's one giant flaw in this plan."

She lifted a brow, waiting.

"If we have to leave this thing cloaked, how the hell are we supposed to find it again?"

"I'll remember where it is."

"You said that on Rigel 10 and then you took us in completely the wrong direction."

"Have I been wrong in the four years since then?"

He gave her a look.

"With directions?" she clarified.

"I don't know. Have you?"

"I also brought a homing device along."

"Good idea. Is this the spot?" Ahmed and Tamar had suggested a little-used auxiliary docking port.

"Yes."

He managed to fit the pod into the air lock. They could only hope it wasn't being tightly monitored, but there were docking ports studded all over the facility and it wasn't as if anyone would actually see the ship, even if they looked right at it.

They stood and reviewed each other critically one last time.

He reached for a bandana he'd stowed in his pocket. "How about we cover those ears a little more securely?"

She presented her head to him, so he tied the bandana around it. "How's that?" he asked. "Not too tight?"

"It's fine." She stared soulfully at him.

He reached up and smudged a little more of the mud across her cheek. "Stay behind me," he said. "Even with dirt on your face, you're still way too pretty."

Once outside the air lock, he slouched without much conviction until she said she heard voices, and then he tried much harder to shuffle along like a properly miserable slave. When they reached the central corridor that was their only access to the bay where _Ares_ was being kept, they found no cover at all - just a steady traffic of people, carts, and cargo.

"There is little chance we won't be seen," T'Pol murmured.

"The trick not to be _noticed,_" he said. Choosing their moment, they shuffled out behind a bedraggled group that was going the direction they needed.

"You! Stop right there, or you're dinner!" The voice came from behind them.

That hadn't taken long. Trip stopped and slowly shuffled around, trying to get T'Pol behind him while maintaining a miserable cower instead of the defensive stance every instinct in him was screaming for.

A huge green Orion male approached them, a device of some kind in his waving hand. Phlox had attached disabled controllers to their necks, but it could quickly become all too obvious that they weren't operating.

"Where did you two come from?" the Orion demanded.

"Merat sent us," Trip mumbled, carefully not looking up.

"Oh yeah?" the Orion sneered. "_I'm_ Merat."


	6. Act Five: The Conclusion

**Disclaimers, etc.** in the Teaser.

_And now for the exciting conclusion… _

**Author's note:** Thanks so much, reviewers; I really appreciate your generosity in making that effort. At this point I'm not entirely sure whether to try to squeeze another episode in or return to the missing scenes series, so you might want to keep an eye out for either.

* * *

><p>"Actually, I believe Belal sent us to <em>find <em>Merat," T'Pol said quickly.

"Oh," Merat said, apparently easily accepting this explanation. He waved his device in front of Trip's neck. "_And_ you're not showing up! That lazy son of a _nera_ needs to put you little shits into the system faster. No matter. Act up, and we'll just give your comrades a nice change from the gruel."

Trip kept his head down and tried very hard _not _to reassure himself by sticking his hand in his pocket to feel for Malcolm's weapon.

"You were heading in the right direction, at least," Merat said. "Keep going," he bellowed, and pushed Trip so hard he sprawled onto the floor. Merat laughed as Trip scrambled back to his feet. "I said MOVE!"

They moved.

x x x

"What was that I was saying about it being too easy?" Shran complained, on the view screen.

Jon held on to his chair as _Enterprise _made yet another swooping turn. Four more Tholian ships had turned up. T'Pol had programmed the strategy she and Malcolm had developed to accept unlimited adjustments as the Tholians increased their numbers, but there would reach a point at which ships and crews were simply not capable of executing the pattern any longer. As it was, there had been increasingly frequent blaring proximity alerts.

It was fortunate that the Tholians appeared to have no imagination. They kept trying to construct the same webs – more pieces of them in more places, yes, but nothing different, nothing faster. Apparently, they had no other moves.

And what had once seemed fun was becoming vaguely nauseating.

x x x

Merat marched them down the wide central corridor and then up into a narrower umbilical corridor. Occasional view ports revealed the graceful _Ares_ towering impressively above everything, though Trip thought he also spied some smaller ships docked in the great bay. They walked through an open air lock and through the decadently wide corridors of a _Defiant-_class starship. Those creepy imperial emblems were everywhere.

Trip had studied the schematics for the _Ares_ obsessively, so he knew they were in the center of G deck when Merat pushed both Humans into what had obviously once been a sickbay. Medical monitors and other equipment hung half-detached from the walls, and drawers and cabinets sat gaping as a ragged crew of workers slowly emptied them into cargo containers. "Fresh meat, Scheral," Merat said.

Scheral, a much smaller Orion, turned and scowled. "More Humans. Why me?"

Merat chuckled. "See if you can keep them in line this time, or our mistress might decide to treat you as disposable labor yourself. And no, Belal hasn't gotten them into the system yet."

"What else is new?" Scheral said sourly, and gestured for the two to follow him. "I'll be more than delighted to make you tonight's ration if you give me any trouble. Or even if you don't. Any skills you'd care to share with me?"

Trip looked at T'Pol. Her expression offered no guidance. "I'm an engineer," he said.

"Is that so?" Scheral said. "See if you can get those monitors off the wall. And you?" he said, turning to T'Pol. His eyes narrowed as he did so, and Trip wondered anxiously if he was noticing T'Pol's greenish complexion or possibly just that she was damned attractive.

"I'm an _assistant _engineer," she said.

"Sure you are. By all means, assist. But you'd better believe I'll be watching both of you with eyes like a _finkel!_"

"Tools?" Trip said.

Scherat looked disgusted, but handed over a kit. "Don't expect anything high-tech."

Trip looked through the little kit and quickly agreed. They were primitive hand tools. He walked over to one of the hanging monitors, remembering only about halfway there that he was supposed to be shuffling in defeat. T'Pol followed him. "Guess we don't want to go messing with any _finkels_," he said.

"We don't have time for this," T'Pol murmured.

Trip murmured back, "It won't take long," then lifted a monitor and started figuring out how it was attached. "Is there power?" he called to Scherat.

"You tell me," Scherat said.

Checking his footing and carefully using only one hand, Trip sliced into a cable bundle.

Nothing.

Okay. A little further. _Mrmrmrmrmrmrmrmrm!_ He jerked his hand back quickly. No wonder all this equipment was still just hanging. He showed T'Pol where the blade of the wire cutter he'd been using had just melted.

Scherat laughed. "Still with us? Perhaps you really _are_ an engineer!"

"Do you try to electrocute _all _your new workers?" T'Pol asked icily.

Scherat's eyebrows went up, and he came over until he was standing menacingly over her. "Only the Humans."

"Why us?" Trip said, if only to take the focus off T'Pol.

"Two of your kind tried to escape us recently. They were quickly captured and killed, of course. And after what we did to the one who remained, I'm not too worried about the rest of this lot. But you – you didn't get to see what we did to the miserable shit. And I don't need any more trouble."

"Then there are no other humans remaining?" T'Pol said.

"Which means there's no one to miss you," he said, with an evil grin.

"That's good to know," Trip said. He had retrieved Malcolm's gun from his pocket and he fired. It took seconds instead of milliseconds, but the Orion finally fell.

The motley crew of other aliens turned from their work to stare in dull surprise.

"Will he be out for awhile?" Trip asked T'Pol, who had retrieved her scanner from a pocket.

She frowned at her readings. "Shoot him again."

He did.

"Now he will," she said.

Trip checked over the bewildered group of aliens quickly. No Andorians. One Tellarite. No other species he recognized. "You," he said to the Tellarite. "Would you like to come with us? We may be able to reunite you with your people."

The Tellarite backed away, hands up defensively.

"Suit yourself," Trip said, and left.

x x x

Soval hailed _Enterprise_. "I calculate that this strategy will fail in less than forty-five minutes, Captain," he said. "And that is without any additional Tholian ships arriving. Have you heard anything from your team?

"Not yet," Jon said. "Let's move to phase three and see if it buys us some time."

"Agreed," Soval said, and Archer had Hoshi send out word.

"Try hailing the Tholians," he said.

"They are not responding, sir."

"Very well. Broadcast a general retreat. We'll turn and head back towards the border at my signal."

x x x

"This is _also_ taking too long," T'Pol said.

"Even in _our_ universe, you don't make it easy for strangers to bypass the auto-destruct protocols," Trip said. "You're going to have to give me a minute."

She waited impatiently, just barely resisting the urge to start pacing. Was this higher-than-usual level of tension a result of their bond? If so, it was not very helpful.

"Okay, here it is," Trip said, finally. "I need the captain's code only – in his voice."

She brought up and played a recording they had pieced together in preparation for this moment. The console lit up with new options.

"That's it," Trip said. "Audible countdown?"

"Yes. Captain Archer wanted us to minimize collateral damage."

"Time?"

"Our remaining window to reach the rendezvous point is twenty-two minutes."

"That might give them too much time to figure out how to stop this. How about ten?"

"Are you sure we can make it out of the facility by then?"

"If we're lucky."

"We haven't been particularly lucky so far."

"Fifteen, then?"

"Agreed."

"Play his voice saying 'engage auto-destruct'," Trip said.

She played it.

Immediately, the warning klaxons started. A female computer voice began, _"Warning! This ship will auto-destruct in five minutes and counting. Warning!…"_

"_Five_ minutes?" Trip said.

"I thought we agreed on twelve!"

"It must have defaulted to five. Maybe we should have used his voice for the time command."

"Can you cancel it?"

"No."

They stared at each other. "Escape pods?" she suggested.

"I have a better idea." Trip pulled her after him, running out the door. The corridor was hectic with running slaves and Orions. T'Pol wrestled her phase pistol out of yet another pocket in case anyone stopped them, but nobody was paying them the slightest attention; they were all intent on their own escape.

"Here…" he said, and jumped through a nearby door – like the others, it opened automatically – into a rather large transporter room. "Do we have power? Yes!" He scanned the controls. "Get up on the pad."

She didn't budge from his side. "Do you know how this works?"

"_Warning! This ship will auto-destruct in four minutes fifteen seconds and counting. Warning! This ship…"_

He muttered, "Coordinates, coordinates…" and his hands danced over the controls. He looked up. "Where's that homing device? I can't lock onto the cell ship because it's just not registering on sensors..."

She frowned and pulled out her scanner and showed him the device's location.

"Okay," he said, "But where is it on the ship?"

"_Warning! This ship will auto-destruct in four minutes and counting. Warning! This ship…"_

"I attached it to an interior bulkhead."

"_Which_ interior bulkhead?" Trip said. "There's not exactly a large margin of error in there."

"Then put us just outside it."

"In the air lock, then… no, just outside it, in case it's not pressurized. All right, got it. Get on the pad."

"You, too," she said, stepping up on the pad. "That's an order, Commander."

"_Warning! This ship will auto-destruct in three minutes forty-five seconds and counting. Warning! This ship…"_

Trip said, "I'll be there in a minute," and she opened her mouth to tell him he didn't _have _a minute, only to materialize outside the air lock.

He'd sent her ahead, against orders. She took a deep breath and buried the rush of pure fury she was feeling, for it was not only un-Vulcan, but also very inconveniently timed. The once quiet area was blaring with the facility's own emergency evacuation alarm, which didn't have a countdown but did have excessive volume. Orions, occasionally with other species in tow, desperately pushed and jockeyed for escape into whatever vessel they could find through the various air locks. Fortunately, none appeared to have noticed her sudden appearance. She pressed open their air lock and headed in. Perhaps Trip would be right behind her.

Suddenly she was pushed aside with such surprising force that she dropped her phase pistol. "You found a _ship_?" a burly Orion said, eagerly checking for pressure on the other side. "Wait a minute! Son of a _nera!_ How can there be atmosphere if there isn't any ship? You've wasted my time!"

T'Pol resisted the urge to tell him he was wasting hers even more and focused on retrieving her weapon. That was when Trip materialized just inside the air lock. The Orion's eyes bugged. So did Trip's.

T'Pol shot the Orion. "We have less than two minutes."

"I know!" Trip said, climbing over the man's hulk, and they hurried to board the cell ship. They both worked fast, ignoring the pre-flight checklist, trying to get under way before it was too late. "Oh, boy."

"What?"

"Traffic jam … and no one can see us."

She decided not to even look at the tiny view screen. Sometimes it was better not to know. "One minute thirty-five seconds," she said.

"Hold on!" he said, and – two fairly minor bumps later – they were out of the dry dock and jumping to warp.

She was trying to raise _Enterprise_ when Ares' detonation blinded her instruments. There was no way they could have achieved a safe distance yet. She barely had time to warn, "Shockwave!" before the little ship went tumbling, and them along with it.

x x x

"T'Pol?" she heard. She was lying against a bulkhead. "T'Pol?"

"Here," she said, sitting up painfully. Inertial dampeners had obviously not managed to fully compensate.

"You all right?" he asked anxiously, running his hands up and down her limbs as if to check for broken bones.

"I am. You?"

"I'm fine. But the cloak is down. And they're onto us." The tiny view screen on the control panel revealed at least three Tholian vessels arranged around them. They both felt a jerk as a tractor beam was engaged. "Great," he said.

"We can still handle this appropriately - unless, perhaps, you are planning to disobey a direct order again."

"Have you forgotten that a Vulcan husband has the prerogative to protect his mate?"

"Have you forgotten that a Starfleet officer is not supposed to disobey a direct order?"

They were both startled to hear the captain's voice suddenly emanating from the console. "Have you _both _forgotten that your comm. is open? Stand by."

They looked at each other.

And then, they were looking at each other in the transporter room of _Enterprise_.

x x x

"Malcolm?" Jon said.

Reed activated a preset control and on the view screen they watched the cell ship explode into tiny pieces. The tactical officer smiled and said, "Kaboom."

"Travis, get us the hell out of here," Jon said.

"With pleasure, sure," Travis replied, and _Enterprise_ and her allies warped towards Tellarite territory – this time, without the slightest intention of doubling back.

x x x

The captain was pacing back and forth in sickbay, where Phlox had just cleared them both as having no more than bruises. He had then gone off to treat another crewman. "Congratulations on a successful mission," Archer said. "I'm glad you're alive. But I have to tell you that letting the whole bridge crew listen in on your lover's quarrel puts me in an impossible situation!"

While she could not entirely approve of his emotional demeanor, T'Pol could understand Captain Archer's frustration. Their behavior _had_ represented a significant lapse of discipline.

"It won't happen again, sir," Trip said.

"Trip is correct, Captain," T'Pol said. "Especially since he wishes for us to leave _Enterprise_."

"What?" Archer said, turning to Trip. "_Again?_"

Trip said, "I just want to have a normal family life, Cap'n: kids, Little League, barbecues, a picket fence, a dog..."

"A dog?" T'Pol said. He was now adding _a_ _dog_ to his list of requirements?

Archer stared at Trip. He didn't appear to know whether to be concerned or amused. "If a dog is what you're missing, you're welcome to borrow Porthos."

"It's just… I think a man deserves his own dog. Don't you, T'Pol?"

Would there be no limit to her mates' exercise of prerogatives? Dogs smelled. Dogs _licked _one's hands and face. And what exactly about being a man made one _deserve_ to keep a canine as a pet? "If that is what you require," she said, between gritted teeth.

Trip grinned and turned to Archer, "Can you _believe_ what Vulcan men can get away with? She just agreed to put up with a dog, just because I claim I need one. Who'd have guessed?"

"Not me," the captain said.

She blinked at Trip, who was still grinning widely. "Your demand for a dog was not serious?"

"Of course not. I know you'd _hate _that." Trip turned back to Archer. "As for the rest… Look … if you can accept that we're together, I imagine we could stick around a little longer." He smiled at T'Pol. "I have the feeling we might be better off working out the kinks of this relationship here, where we _both_ feel at home. Do you agree?"

"Very much," T'Pol said, greatly relieved.

Archer, however, looked pained. "Glad as I am to hear that, you can't do it openly. And if Starfleet gets wind of any of this… either from today, or from any future indiscretions…"

Trip said, "Then we're prepared to go. It's that simple." He turned to T'Pol. "If you agree, that is."

"I do," she said. "And not just because I have to."

x x x

In the captain's mess of _Enterprise_ in a stationary orbit around Tellar Prime, four men from four different species lifted their glasses of Andorian ale. "To cooperation," Jon said.

Shran drank, but then he scowled. "Cooperation, my ass. You intended to destroy that cell ship from the beginning, didn't you?"

"Only because you were so interested in it," Archer said. "I haven't forgotten what you tried to pull with the Xindi weapon. Anyway, I think we all just got _enough_ new technology dropped in our laps. And better that than the kind that allows us to sneak around."

Shran wasn't mollified. "How do we know you haven't _already_ developed a cloak?"

Jon grinned. "If we _had_, I wouldn't have needed you for this, would I?"

Soval said, "A logical argument, unless you are more diabolical than we generally believe. We can only hope that you are not."

Graal said, "Not everyone in our command is persuaded we did the right thing in helping you, Captain. Or in agreeing to share this technology. But I told them your people simply aren't intelligent enough to be doing this as part of a master plan for galactic domination."

"Thanks," Jon said. "And I'm sure your people aren't smart enough to figure out all that technology on your own."

Graal snorted appreciatively.

Shran turned to Graal. "If you suddenly decide you're _not_ going to share it, you'd better plan to hide it pretty damned well from _us_. We won't tolerate such an advantage in our traditional enemy's hands."

"Is that a _threat,_ Andorian?" Graal snarled.

"Gentleman!" Archer said. "None of us would be here if we didn't think cooperation is better for our species than competition. I think it's time we formalized this relationship: some sort of coalition of planets. We'd enjoy all the benefits of open trade, shared information, mutual defense. What do you think?"

Soval said, "It might help keep any of humanity's imperial ambitions in check."

"I don't know," Shran said dubiously. "The Andorian Empire is very proud of its independence."

"My government would likely see the advantages of such an undertaking," Graal said. "Especially if the Andorians _aren't_ part of it."

"We have a much stronger alliance with Earth than you do," Shran said. "Don't think for one minute that you're going to usurp that position!"

Jon smiled at Soval. "You know, I think this might just work."

THE END


End file.
